Where DO We Go from Here?
by Sabia
Summary: A few months after Chosen, Buffy and Co. turn up in LA to find Spike undead and kicking. Add Angel, and we have a love triangle made up of the twice dead, the undead, and the undeader. But they're going to have to pull together: A new evil is rising. WIP
1. The Greet, Meet and Catchup Fest

Disclaimer: Buffy, Angel, and all the others belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. No profit is made from this story (or any others, for that matter.)  
  
Rating: Mild PG-13  
  
Pairing: B/A, B/S, maybe B/F a little later on. No threesomes or foursomes though.  
  
Setting: LA, early Season 5 in Angel: The Series, after Chosen in Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
  
Author's Notes: This is my first fiction, so lots of reviews, please, to tell me how I'm doing. I have so many things I want to put down, and can't! I want to do every event from each character's point of view, and then I get focused on one, and forget the rest.  
  
* The Marauder's Map is a magical map from Harry Potter which shows where people are as they move around in Hogwarts, the wizarding school.  
  
Where DO We Go From Here?  
  
Buffy kept herself a little distant from the other Scoobies as she watched the sleek black limos slide down the curving loop of the road. The airport behind her was frigid with wind, and she shivered as the thin, embroidered gauze covering her tank top let it through. The chauffeur- the chauffeur! opened the door for them as the back sprung open automatically. He loaded their luggage in as they climbed into the roomy backseat, and Buffy found herself squashed between Willow and Faith. She felt a pang of bitterness- she and Dawn had been saving every penny those last few years, and now she calls to say that they've coming to LA and Angel says, oh sure, I'll send a freakin' limo to pick you up!  
  
Her reverie was interrupted by Faith. "So, B, you nervous 'bout seein' your star-crossed lover?"  
  
Buffy glanced at her to make sure she wasn't meaning anything, and turned away anyway. She didn't know how she felt about Angel anymore- or rather, she knew perfectly well how she felt and just didn't know how to, or even if she should, act on it. She was deeply, deeply in love with Angel. She was also deeply, deeply in love with Spike. She supposed this was what the First Slayer had mean- love, give, forgive, you have an endless capacity for love, blah blah blah. It did mean that she had to decided between two of the beings dearest to her.  
  
She watched the world go by, unaware she was awash in golden light, individual strands alight with effulgent fire. Faith, looking at her, though she was beautiful, and somehow fey.   
  
The car drew up to an impressive building, the glassy facade shining in the evening sun. She wondered how Angel got around, there being so many windows. Several... several what? Busboys? Porters? Both were absurdly wrong, and so she settled for assistants. Several assistants materialized to help them and maneuvered all their luggage onto carts. They bowed- "Fan- CY!" muttered Dawn- and left one of their number behind to escort them in. All of them- Faith, Willow, Xander, Dawn, Giles, Andrew, and one of the newby slayers, called Ayri.  
  
Ayri was Malawian and from a poverty-stricken family. Her father had been on the brink of selling her into prostitution and Buffy, nor any of the others, had had the heart to leave her behind the way they did most of the Slayers. The Scoobies' current MO was to find a base, search the Slayers out using Willow's Marauder's Map, each choose a newby, and split up to clue them in. They would then bring them together, train them for a couple of days or weeks, depending on how quickly they caught on, and then repeat this somewhere else.  
  
"Gunn. I know you have a problem trusting strangers, especially with what Cordelia has probably..." Angel caught himself, "... probably filled your mind with, but these are good people. Although I still don't know why they're here. Have any of you heard anything?"  
  
Wesley shifted uncomfortably as Gunn, Fred, Lorne and Spike shook their head. Luckily, he was saved further agitation by the light knock on the door. Angel started. The assistant immediately entered, the guests following.  
  
"What... Buffy. You weren't suppose to arrive until later." He stumbled over his words as he gazed at her.  
  
Buffy wasn't paying the slightest attention. She stared at the figure across the room. It's eyes were locked with hers. Dawn, who had entered behind her, buffeted her out of the way as she lunged across the room to hug her favourite vampire. Her wide smile disappeared as she fell through him, bashing her shoulder on the glass of the window. She stood upright, and Angel realized how tall she was these days.   
  
"It's the first," she said flatly. She looked at her shoes, her cheeks burning red. Buffy, however had started hesitantly moving forwards reverently.  
  
"No." Her voice was soft, and coated in awe. "No, it isn't."  
  
She continued forwards until she stood in front of him. The rest of the Scoobies clustered by the doorway. Her arm rose quickly, and her fingers brushed his cheek, staying there. "You're real."  
  
They stayed like that for a moment, her hand outstretched, his head tilted slightly to the side, his eyes soft blue. The sharp plans of his face were gentle in a way the AI crew had never seen, and his ivory skin somehow emanated tenderness.  
  
"That I am, pet." He said softly. Buffy spun around.  
  
Her words were jostled out of the way by the barrage of questions that had flooded the room at Spike's words.  
  
"This is most extraordinary." Giles removed his glasses and polished them on the hem of his shirt.  
  
"What is with you people and coming back from the dead?" Faith displayed her joy at the reappearance of the vamp.  
  
Fred was perplexed. "How did you touch him? Why was he solid to you? Is is because you've been dead, 'cause you know, sometimes those anbaric-magnetic particles that attach themselves to plasma during death can have an effect if they stay on this plane..."  
  
"How did he get back? Did somebody get into major mojo, 'cause I can say from experience that it never ends well..." babbled Willow as her curiosity bubbled over.  
  
Angel raised his hands for quite, and everyone silenced for an explanation. "Look, everybody. Spike is somehow linked to the amulet- you know, shiny crystal thing? He was a ghost, and up until now," he glanced strangely at Buffy, "he wasn't solid. He could pick the occasional thing up if he concentrated, but we really don't know much. We're working on finding everything out, why he came back and what his purpose is, but until then, we're going with it."  
  
Buffy tore her gaze from Spike's. Well. This brought everything a whole new level of complications. But this wasn't the time. They needed to get settled in, and introduced, and figure out this thing Wesley called them about. Speaking of which, she should probably pay attention, since he was clearing his throat to speak, and it looked important.  
  
"Um, I realize perfectly well that you may well be upset, but Angel, I initiated this visit that you thought had come on so suddenly. I was contemplating the complex intricacy and immense power," he nodded courteously to Willow, "the immense power need to perform the spell you use to imbue all the potentials with their full power. I was- ah- wondering if you could possibly use one of your ingenious spells to perhaps try to aid Cordelia in returning to her physical body."  
  
Willow looked flabbergasted. "Cordelia's... possessed? Or what, in a coma or something."  
  
Seeing Wesley's nod of confirmation, and hearing his explanation about Cordelia being a higher being, she took a moment to get over her surprise, and shrugged to show she would aquiest to his request. She looked over to him, impatiently brushing her shiny red hair out of her face. "Well? Where is she?"  
  
Wesley was taken aback. "You wish to try now? But don't you need some meditation? Preparation for the spell, if nothing else?"  
  
Willow shook her head. "Nope. With this sort of spell, this is either going to work, or nothing will." She waved her hand to illustrate her point. "No stinky herby sticks, or pentagrams. They're not gunna do the trick. This all takes place on the astral plane, trying to coax a spirit back into a body. What are things on this plane going to do there?"  
  
Angel broke in hopefully. "Willow, this is great. If you're sure you don't need anything, this way? She's been gone for a while now, and I'd like her back quickly." He looked sadly at the floor for a moment. "I've missed her."  
  
The other Scoobies had been following all this with interest, but now they followed Angel, Wesley and Willow down the hall. On the way to the bright, sunny room belonging to Cordelia- not that she'd ever seen it- Angel leaned in to Wesley, his mouth close to the other man's ear. "You shouldn't have done this without asking me."  
  
"I know." replied Wesley in an undertone, keeping his eyes ahead on the corridor. "I was hoping would accept it if they could help Cordelia. Your remaining issues with Buffy and Spike are no reason to enforce Cordelia to remain where she is."  
  
Angel's face had contorted with anger at the first part of the last sentence, but smoothed with a sigh as he accepted his friend's words. He grumbled lightly to show Wesley he wasn't really angry, but wouldn't be letting him off with it.  
  
***  
  
They filed into Cordelia's sunlit room, and it was only then that the Scoobies noticed the treated glass.  
  
"Hey! Why aren't you guys all poofy-burny?"  
  
"The windows are made out of some bloody strange glass, pet. They allow vamps to come into the sun in them." Spike explained patiently to Dawn. "That's why we're not 'all burny' although it still doesn't account for his poofiness."  
  
He jerked his head at Angel, who merely sighed at his childe's immature insult. He could be damn biting when he wanted, but in front of the ex- Sunnydalers, he tried to put up this gentle human front. Angel ignored both of the voices in his head- the one saying Spike wasn't the only one being immature, or at least hadn't when Angel visited Sunnydale before the Big Bang, as the Scoobs affectionately called the explosion, and the voice saying "Look at his eyes when he glances at Buffy! If that's not true humanity, then I'm a dead dog!" He had his principals when it came to Spike, and he was sticking to them. Well, he was until he saw Buffy and the real joy and- affection, affection in her eyes when she looked at Spike and saw he was there, not dead, in that very room with her.  
  
He returned to the present where Willow was sitting back on her knees next to Cordeila's bed. She upturned her hands on Cordelia's stomach, and close her eyes. Several minutes passed until her back straighten, her eyelids flared, and her eyes were coloured amythest. She emitted a gasping sigh, and slumped, before pulling herself upright and blinking. Her eyes returned to normal, and she looked up apologetically to the Scoobs.  
  
"I have the power to get there, but I don't have the right- I can't get through. I'm not a higher being." she told the expectant gathering.  
  
"Wait a minute," said Buffy, pacing back and forth in front of the windows. The light outlined her, and she was effulgent- a true angel, a goddess, thought Spike. "You say you need to have someone with access to this, this higher plane, you say? You know much about it?" She turned to Angel again.  
  
He looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Well, we saw her with the Axis of Pythea, and-"  
  
He was cut off short by Giles, who cried out in astonishment, "The Axis of Pythea? You are quite sure? I was under the impression that that has disappeared a while back, and had an high-clearance search on for it. It's supposed to be quite rare, and extremely valuable, worth-"  
  
This time Angel cut him off. "-33 million dollars, we know." he finished wearily. Giles polished his glasses furiously, muttering things like, "Astonishing! Amazing!"  
  
"Anyway," Angel continued, casting a dry look at Giles, who looked suitably sheepish, "We saw her throught the Axis, and she was surrounded by all these- motes of pure joy."  
  
Buffy, who had been quizzically awaiting his answer, nodded once, then twice, tucking a strand of her golden hair behind her ear. "I was in a place like that." She said quietly. "Not the same, but they sound similar enough that if I joined with Willow in the spell, we might be granted access."  
  
Wesley looked at her. He had taken a new measure of her when they first saw each other again, noting the pain in her eyes and the mature gravity in her young face. Now he was taking his second. From what he had gleaned from Angel and Spike, Buffy had been drawn out of peace into hell on earth; a hell on earth, which to her, clawing her way from the earth into a town savaged by demons, had seemed hell itself. She now seemed to bear no resentment towards Willow, or if she was, it wasn't apparant, and Wesley doubted any great amount of it was hidden away, in the warrior of the people. She was willing to go back there, catch a glimpse of true rest, and be dragged back to this sorry world. She was an extraordinary young lady.  
  
However, Xander and Faith, who sometimes understood Buffy so well, were being coarse and ignorant of her sacrifice, taking it instead to be an escape.  
  
"Buffy, I know it was good there, but I though you'd moved past this. You're wanted- needed, here." Xander told her seriously.  
  
"We need you," Faith added, uncharacteristically gentle.  
  
Buffy looked like she didn't know whether to be insulted or amused or touched. "Guys, I was just planning to bring Cordelia back, no biggie. I wasn't going to swap myself for her or anything." The thought struck her, and she frowned. "I don't know if that would be possible. Anyway, like I said, it doesn't sound quite like the place I was in, so it might not work, but it's worth a shot."  
  
Angel hesitated between his concern for his ladylove, and his longing for Cordelia. He finally nodded, knowing, even if the others didn't, arguing was useless by the time Buffy got that look in her eye, the one he privately called her 'slayer savage' glint, in an ode to the Scooby slang. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? Willow was an experienced, powerful, witch, and they were trying to access a white dimension, not an evil one.  
  
Spike, too, backed down without comment, and simple looked worriedly at her, but with pure love on her face, pure love for her soul, and the reason she was doing this. To him, it shone so clearly. Why didn't everyone she meet bow down at her feet? Couldn't they see the light?  
  
Buffy settled herself opposite the redhead Wiccan, and took her hands across Cordelia. She nodded to convey her readiness. Willow, lowering her face, took a breath and closed her eyes, this time softly chanting a power call under her breath.  
  
"Allah diah aigh. Daigh al allaig da." echoed through the peaceful room. An expectant pause.  
  
And then a result.  
  



	2. Bringing Back Queen C

For disclaimer, rating, etc. see Chapter 1.  
  
Anyone who leaves a review gets a cookie shaped in the character of their choice, but they only get chocolate if they use proper punctuation.  
  
*Athames are ritual knives, not usually or always used for sacrifices or violence, mainly just for symbolism.  
  
Buffy abruptly threw her head back violently, her eyes shooting open. Spike, beside her, saw with mixed horror and awe the galaxies of light pooling in them. The universe was in her eyes, and she was going to drown, going to disappear into that endless, silken abyss. He clutched at her helplessly, feeling the nervous animal tension and age-old agony in the delicate bones of her back, the gentle curve of her neck. Invisible claws, or maybe an athame* gashed deep furrows across her stomach, back, chest, and down her upper arms. Rivulets of rich red bloods flowed freely in torrents down her body. Her body was wracked with spasms before her eyes faded to their normal hazel, a hazel which was like looking into a pool of water with a firm dirt bottom that was overshadowed with a canopy of fertile greenery. She collapsed, half gasping, half sobbing, into Spike's waiting arms. Across from her, Willow's eyelids fluttered, hints of amethyst power remaining for a moment. She coughed and weakly leaned back into Xander, crouched behind her. Both girls' eyes had fallen closed again.  
  
The surrounding people flew towards the injured witch and Slayer. Angel hovered helplessly between them, his gaze flickering to the figure on the bed once in a while. "Willow? Buffy? What happened?" He whispered urgently. He didn't know why he was whispering. Maybe to spare their heads; were they aching? He couldn't tell; speak to me, he intoned under his breath. He wanted to do something, wanted to surround Buffy in his arms and tell her it was okay, nobody wanted anything form her, stay here with him, stay here!  
  
Then Buffy drew in a great hiccupping breath of perfumed sunlit air, and opened her eyes. She'd barely taken anything in before she turned and dove into Spike's embrace, her entire petite body shaking with gasping sobs, huge gulps of air and tears and the scent of Spike. Her normally flawless face was ravaged with not exactly grief, but... Spike decided it was more like longing, and frustration, and loneliness. How she could be lonely surrounded by people and countless youthful girls for the past four months, he didn't know, but it was there. He tried to edge himself into Buffy's mindset, and realized there was good reason, very good reason, but he couldn't grasp it, he hadn't been there. But Faith had, and she was crouched beside him, stroking Buffy's hair, tenderly brushing her tears away and whispering not comforting nonsense like he was, but grounding words of understanding. She looked up at him, her long dark lashes framing her serious eyes, eyes which sometimes seemed so distant, and sometimes filled her face. Dawn was at her shoulder, her long dark hair swinging like a pendulum as she bent over her sister. "Give her a minute." Faith whispered hoarsely to him.  
  
The Wolfram and Hart gang were all hovering with concern between the injured women, not exactly reluctant to get close, but unsure of their welcome. Willow coughed, propping herself up on a shaky arm, and tried to speak. All that came out was an itchy sound like a box with screws sticking out of it being dragged along concrete or cement. She cleared her throat, and tried again. Dawn headed around the other side of the bed, thinking somewhat bitterly, that with all the hunky ex-lovers and fellow Slayers around, an unreal younger sister wouldn't be much wanted, and Willow could do with someone trying to shut her up before she hurt her throat seriously- Xander was trying to help her sit up, brushing her hair out of her face, ineptly but with obvious love for his best friend. He muttered, "Now it would come in real useful if you had one of your handy-dandy healing potions, or Slayer healing, Will."  
  
Speaking of Slayers, Dawn wondered where Ayri was as she wadded up the sleeve of her sweater and firmly held it over Willow's mouth to abort her attempts at speech. The poor girl was standing by the door, silent and withdrawn. In fact, the only person she really seemed comfortable with was Buffy, the sweet girl who had rescued her, and given her all her possessions, and taught her English- granted, with great help from the translator that they hired. Dawn did, however notice the curious glances which the black dude, what's his name, Gurn or something, kept throwing the African girl from the corner of his eye. Maybe he felt some sort of skin kinship with her... But no, that was stupid, and sort of prejudiced, bonding over skin colour. But so many people did, over superficial things. So many people made friends with other people because they also wore glasses and were nervous about the bright light in their eyes, or because they both had frizzy hair and met in the shampoo aisle in the pharmacy or supermarket. It didn't mean they would be friends, but it was a conversation starter, something they had in common, as much as if they both like Lord of the Rings, or both played badminton. Maybe she could properly introduce them later... But Ayri didn't seem curious about him, or anyone else, she was just watching her blonde heroine with dark worried eyes, like the colour the sky was when the last rays of the sun met the oncoming night, a kind of bronze-brown colour.  
  
All of this had gone through Dawn's mind in the quickest of seconds in the way moral thoughts do when needed in relation to the present, and she was drawn back to the present by Xander gently removing her hand from Willow's mouth. "Dawnie, she needs to breathe," explained the dark-hair boy- not a boy, Dawn told herself a man. How easy it would be to drift back to the good ol' days, of Snoopy dances, and weekly demons, and warm cups of special Mom cocoa.  
  
It was then that Cordelia sat up with her old megawatt smile, and greeted them brightly with, "Well, FINALLY! Jeez, you guys really do fall to bits without me, don't you? All this crap with Jasmine, and doubts over Wolfram and Hart, which I am gunna sort the hell out, and how long did it take you to call in someone competent like Willow? BTW, thanks for eventually realizing Wes. Do you know how incredibly, mind-shatteringly dull it was up there? It was like watching reruns of Passions all day." She paused for breath.  
  
Spike's head came up so quickly he got backlash. "HEY! I'll have you know that Passions is a bloody good show! Take that back!" he demanded indignantly.  
  
She snorted from under Angel's hug, which she returned enthusiastically enough, but with obvious desire to get back to her verbal sparring with Spike. "A show about a doll? How lame is that?" She smirked. "And look at the big bad. The worst bit is, you liked this before you're miraculous conversion to good," she glared darkly at him to convey her distrust of this, "because of Buffy." She looked around. "Speak of the saint, where is she?"  
  
Her eyes opened slightly wider at the sight of Buffy drenched in blood, and opened hugely at the sight of her sobbing in Spike's arms as he constantly whispered comforts to her. In all the time she'd known Buffy, in all the time she'd fought beside her, and apart from her, she had never, ever seen her cry; not about Angelus, not about Jenny Calendar, not even when Angel left her. She instantly pulled her gently from the white-blond vampire's arms and hugged her tightly to her. Buffy pushed her face into Cordelia's shoulder, and with a couple of deep breaths, managed to stop crying. She stayed with her head resting on the brunette's shoulder for several minutes before heaving another sigh and smoothing out her hair and clothes. She turned around, her face as neutral as if nothing had happened. Cordelia kept her hand over the other girl's; she knew she was embarrassed, especially since this was her first impression on the ex-AIs, but she had needed to get that out. She wondered if the girl had had a proper cry since she came back at all, if she'd ever just let rip and bawled. She guessed Buffy'd probably just leaked a few tears when she couldn't prevent them escaping.  
  
The rest of the room felt abashed, especially Spike. Buffy hadn't wanted fussing over, she wanted tangible, solid, human- humane, Spike amended- humane comfort. Real, corporeal comfort. Not whispered, sweet, words. He felt like such a fool, but with a kind of strange defiance as well. He'd tried. To hide his confusion and embarrassment, he looked to Willow, who was also getting to her feet, escorted by Xander. Buffy, he noticed with pleasure ((damn it! Could he not go a minute without thinking of her)) had immediately held out her free arm for her little sister when she had regained her composure, and tightly curled her arm around her.  
  
"Hey," a voice interrupted sheepishly with a small cough, "Uh, I hate to break up the powwow, but there are a couple of rather grimy things you guys need to know." The room turned as one towards the newcomer- whose sudden appearance from thing air (literally), Giles noted with dry amusement, had failed to shock any one of them- startle, yes, but not jump in a "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!" kind of way they would have during the first few years in Sunnydale High.  
  
Skip waved in an embarrassed kind of way, especially amusing considering the horns and giant axe. 


	3. To Console and Explain in LA

For disclaimer, etc. see Chap 1  
  
Please review; anyone who does gets a cookie shaped in the character of their choice, chocolate flavour if they PUNCTUATE CORRECTLY.  
  
  
***  
  
"HOLY SATSUMAS!" yelled Andrew, backing against the window glinting with the evening sun and plastering his hands against the wall.  
  
Once again, Angel raised his hands to calm the gathering. "People! PEOPLE! Calm down, this is Skip. He works for the Powers that be, as a kind of messenger and guard and various other things. Look, everyone stay to hear what he has to say, and then I want anyone not requested to stay by Buffy or Cordelia to leave. Do a little research- especially into the gouges in Buffy's arms and torso. I don't think that can be right, the Powers wouldn't do something like that."   
  
"Yeah, well, you've obviously never been picked on by the Powers, have you." muttered Buffy darkly.   
  
"OK, people, could we get back to topic?" Skip waved his axe for attention. "Now, I have to scold you for once again undoing the Powers' work." He scowled at Willow. "But it's only because you have before that you got away with it this time. This wonderful warrior," he bestowed a beaming smile on Buffy, "has been dragged from her reward because of your own selfishness. It is as a favour to her, and a sign of our gratitude for continuing to fight, that we allowed you to show Miss Chase the way home. Although, we don't exactly approve of your method of avoiding suicide. Anyway, Cordelia may stay here, but little witch, don't mess with us again. Also, Slayer, you may want to do something about that blood." He vanished.  
  
He may as well have not bothered with the last few words. The entire room was still reeling from the news of how close Buffy had been to killing herself. Willow, already tottering slightly, had staggered back into Xander's arms. Her face was pale. "Su- suicide?" she gasped.  
  
Angel, who had been as shell-shocked as the rest, regained control. "People! Out! My people, show Xander, Ayri, Dawn, Andrew, Faith, and Giles to their rooms." He ordered. The majority obeyed, but Spike refused to leave, Faith looked rebellious, and Ayri seemed hesitant. Xander turned to her, and gently tugged her along with him. "Sweetie, they're in good hands. You need to give them some room to breathe now." He reassured her, not entirely sure she had understood, but Ayri followed him willingly enough after that. Xander could already tell that the secondary Slayer and the ghostly vamp weren't going to surrender, so he didn't bother. He eased the door shut behind them, leaving Willow, Buffy, Faith, Spike, Cordelia and Angel in the room.  
  
Angel's nostrils tugged his mind towards Buffy, who was still streaming blood. The bleeding had slowed, but she had lost enough already that whenever she shifted, blood lapped over the edge of her clothing and onto the floor. Faith had been trying to hold her still (but wasn't being very firm; she seemed terrified of hurting Buffy) while Spike attempted to stop the bleeding with his over shirt, but Buffy kept brushing them away, apparently unconcerned about being drenched in her own blood. Angel wondered if she even realized what she was doing to the two vampires. The scent bordered the line between bliss and agony, especially when it was mingled with Buffy's personal smell. It reminded him of when he had drunk her blood until she was nearly drained. He went to her and firmly took her shoulders from Faith as Spike began ripping strips from his T-shirt for bandages. Spike shot him a grateful look, but saved face by roughly complaining, "You're in poufter heaven with your big, shiny gay building and dozens of penis-mobiles, but you can't get your," he paused in his work to make quotation marks in the air with his fingers, "love of your unlife a completer of proper sodding bandages?"  
  
Angel felt chastised, and realizing his foolishness in hanging around thinking all this time, silently buzzed for a healer. Spike was surprised, but diligently finished wrapping Buffy's cuts up, before sweeping the flowers from a vase and dunking a remaining scrap of cloth in it. He used it to get the worst of the drying blood off Buffy's skin. Finally, they all say on the edge of Cordelia's bed in a circle.  
  
Willow, her face tearstained, spoke first. "What did he mean about suicide? Please, Buffy tell me the truth. I need to know."  
  
Buffy took a deep breath from her position between Spike and Angel, who were both alternating between glaring at each other jealously and smiling protectively at her. "When I came back," she began, "I didn't have anything to live for. I didn't enjoy anything; there were all the bills and taking care of Dawn and the authorities, and I was empty inside. I didn't feel... anything. I was so numb, and voided, and I was still... dead. The only thing I could feel was the cold. It was so cold..." She drifted off into a morbid, reflective gloom. "Except Spike. I didn't love him, I barely liked him, but I trusted him, and he was funny, and he was my equal, and his love warmed me." She looked away. "And I used it. I abused it. Because I knew he wouldn't ask anything he didn't want anything, he was giving and giving and never taking. So I abused it. And that's what led to... to why he left to get his soul. He was amazing. His demon was tempered by love, and a gentle one as demons go, but it could only take so much... Thank you." She murmured, turning to the platinum vampire.  
  
His arm rose of its own accord to brush a stray, blood-matted strand of hair from her honey face. "Anytime." he replied, helpless.  
  
Cordelia looked between them before bringing her gaze to Angel and Willow. "Hello? Anyone planning on filling in Coma!Cordy?"  
  
"I'm not too sure myself," Angel said quietly, his gaze steadily on the two blondes.  
  
Buffy's face drifted from Spike to the rest of the group. She smoothed her skirt and settled on her knees. She looked up at Angel, and said, without the slightest tremor, "When I came back from... heaven, I began sleeping with Spike, but I was abusing him. I broke up with him after a while, but Spike..." She seemed confused and upset. Buffy didn't know how to say what had happened without it sounding like she resented or feared or approved of what Spike had done, and someone was sure to take offence. He sensed it, and made to cover her hand with his, but thought better of it. He didn't know who Buffy was going to choose. One minute he was so sure it would be him, and then she shared an intimate look with Angel and he was sure he was just a friend. He took over, holding Angel's eyes with not a little trepidation.  
  
"I tried to rape Buffy."  
  
Cordelia instantly let out a shrieking gasp of part horror, part sympathy, part disbelief and part indignant women's rights protestor, all in one extraordinary noise. Spike tried to bore a hole in the bed with his gaze alone. He had known how horrified the Scoobies were, but he hadn't been there when they first found out and were steaming mad. Plus, none of them could hold a candle to this Chase girl when it comes to anger and guilt- making, he silently bet. He ventured a peek at Angel to escape her venomous gaze, and instantly knew he was in deep shit.  
  
The elder vampire was in full game face; Angelus was occupying his eyes, furious over the treatment of his mate, and the entire being seemed taller, and larger, and loomed more darkly than ever. "YOU DARE DISRESPECT MY MATE THIS WAY, WILL?" he roared. Spike closed his eyes and then opened them again stubbornly. He would take it; he deserved it, and much more. But he didn't want it, he wanted it to be over, he wanted everyone to know and accept it and is OK with him. He inwardly cringed, and then mouthed 'Fuck you!' at himself for being weak and soulful, and then cringed again.  
  
And then she was there, standing petite and defiant in front of him. She looked Angel straight in the eye, commanding, "Angel. This happened years ago. It had been dealt with; Spike had been forgiven. Back off. Let it go."  
  
When Angel replied, it was in the same magnificent, shattering roar, but his time it held a hint of doubt. "HE DOESN'T DESERVE FORGIVENESS!"  
  
"Forgiveness isn't something you deserve, it's something you need," she replied calmly with a hint of wistfulness. Her matter-of-a-fact and accepting tone suddenly cowed Angel, and he bound Angelus again, in a moment become not small, but his normal size, and his face was human again.  
  
"OK," said, Cordelia, clearly thinking they had digressed, however shocked she was, "So what we know is that I came back in return for Buffy's suffering, and the fact that she'd been to the place I was gave you a ticket in, so to speak?"  
  
"No. The place I was in was different. You said yours was boring; as much as I'd wanted peace and rest, which I had, there were things to do in mine. Not in relation to this world, and they were games or anything. I don't remember them all that well, but we could do whatever we wanted." Buffy corrected in a low voice.  
  
Faith stared at her in surprise. "You saw where Cordelia was? I thought you just granted the spell access. Red, you see anythin'?"  
  
Willow shook her head negative, but Cordelia told the rest when it became obvious Buffy wasn't going to. "She came in to where I was, and she took my hand and said that she was here to bring me back. She seemed so... natural in there, surrounded by light and peace." She gave a little laugh. "You wouldn't think so, would you, when you see her in battle."  
  
"Or pissed off," muttered Spike under his breath. Buffy elbowed him with a hint of a smile on her face.  
  
Faith eyed the furrows in Buffy's flesh. "But what's with all those wounds, if that was such a good place?"  
  
"Maybe they're sexy wounds," muttered Spike. At this Buffy elbowed him again with a grin spreading across her face, and couldn't keep down some giggles.  
  
Cordelia titled her head. "Huh? I'm missing something. Explainy, please?"  
  
"Um, when Spike was in psycho-obsesso mode-"  
  
"HEY!"  
  
"Well, it's true. Anyway, he had a robot made that looked just like me, only it worshipped him and spoke in really superficial, bright way. He had a made to play chess with," she suddenly hiccupped with laughter again.  
  
This time all of them looked at her curiously. "That's what we told Dawn," Buffy said, getting her chuckles under control. She became serious again. "But, yeah, why do I have them? They couldn't have been part of the spell. There wasn't any evil in that place."  
  
Cordelia suddenly bent her head, her eyes shut. Angel whispered to the newcomers about her visions. She lifted her head again, her neat, nurse- braided hair dangling, eye's expressive. "That was a freaky-deaky vision. Skip spoke to me in his head." She glanced around the gathering. "Something evil was guarding the higher plane, trying to stop you bringing me home." 


	4. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, Life is To...

For disclaimer, rating, etc. see Chap 1  
  
Author's notes: Many apologies for amount of time it's going to take to get the next chapter up; I'm going away on holiday. I would also like readers to note that I will not alter my fics according to the pairing they want. I'd be happy to write a new fic with that pairing for you (if I approve of it, for instance- Buffy/Giles, shudder)  
  
  
  
The room reverberated with silence. It was interrupted by Fred, who delicately inserted her head around the door and informed Buffy and Faith, "Hey... uh, I didn't mean to intrude, cos that would be rude and everything, and people don't like rude people, especially when they're talking about important things, but-"  
  
"Spit it out, Fred," said Angel kindly, smiling.  
  
She nodded. "Right. Um, you two," she gestured to Buffy and Faith, "are gunna have to share a room. They mixed it up, and thought two of your group were a couple, so they gave you a double bed in one of your rooms, and all the hotel is full, and that sweet girl Dawn said that you," she tilted her head towards Willow, "was, uh, gay, so you shouldn't share with someone else." She smiled hopefully and apologetically at them.  
  
Angel looked between the two Slayers, expecting trouble. The two never seemed to get along well, always clashing. However, he came to the conclusion that they must have bonded over the summer, and over the last apocalypse, because they smiled at each other acceptingly, and linked arms like best friends. Faith tugged Buffy after her as she clambered to her feet, and announced, "I'm gunna go settle it."  
  
Buffy spoke up defiantly, "I want to go on a patrol later. It's been ages since I've had a proper patrol; there aren't enough demons, once we've have the Slayerlings take some out. I'm sure Faith will come with me, won't you?" She turned to Faith questioningly.  
  
Faith grinned conspiratorially at her. "But B, with Angel and his ghost- bustin' crew here, we might not find any. We'll be at the nightclub on Bane Street if we don't see any. We could make a night of it if any of you suckers wanted to show."  
  
She swept out of the room, dragging Buffy along with her before the blonde could contradict her.  
  
  
***  
  
Later, after a wander through some of LA's meaner streets and a few satisfyingly violent battles, Buffy and Faith were undulating to the pulse of dance music in the hottest club in town. The mob of partiers of the floor were moving as one to the beat, and then you looked closer, and you saw the intricate, separate people doing their own dances, moving and differentiating themselves, and then you looked even closer, and you saw the subtle manipulations in these movements. You realized the guy innocently buying a drink for the pretty, baby-faced girl next to him was winking to the bartender, who laced it with vodka; you saw the boy with a pinched face lifting a wallet from a back pocket as pretended to squeeze by on his way to the toilet; you spied the woman with straight, long raven tresses seducing an awkward, pimple-faced student who must have bluffed his way in; and you understood that this is what these people came here to do. The true clubbers, the regulars, knew this, and avoided the dangers; but the newcomers were bewitched and bewildered by the 'workers', so called because they worked over the crowd.  
  
The two Slayers had never been there before, just heard of it, but Faith had been to many clubs, and Buffy had her Slayer instincts, and wasn't naive in the least anymore. So the women were writhing and rippling to the music, letting their cares and their worries go in the exhilaration and adrenaline of letting loose.  
  
Angel, Spike, Cordelia, Gunn, Wesley and Xander pushed through the door, and peered through the sweaty gloom. Xander spotted some low couches in the corner by the bar, and headed that way, towing the others behind her. Angel took orders and went to buy a round of drinks as Spike sprawled over a sagging armchair and bluntly asked, "So, you think the bints are here yet?"  
  
Gunn shrugged and replied amiably, "I dunno, but this place is cool, man. I'm not gunna spend the who night lookin' for them."  
  
Angel returned and handed out the drinks, scowling when Spike shoved his muddy Doc Martens up on the table, laces trailing dirt and what looked like faintly phosphorescent Vin'sdu demon blood. He declined to comment though, and sank into the sofa next to Wesley with a plastic tumbler of whiskey in his hand.  
  
It was only when Xander choked on his beer and coughed so much Cordelia remarked acidly, "I think he's hacking up a hairball," that Angel snapped to attention. As Xander finished spluttering, he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve and pointed. "Well, I guess we found Buffy and Faith." he said absent-mindedly, his attention focused on the two Slayers.  
  
Angel followed his finger, and at first just saw a heaving mass of dancers on the upraised floor in the centre of the huge room. But there was something odd about it; it was a second before he realized that it was that the throng was all guys. He peered curiously at the group, and still hadn't put two and two together when he saw Buffy and Faith dancing together in the middle of the slavering horde.  
  
This time it was his turn to choke. It had been a while since he'd seen Buffy on top form. She was decked out in her patrolling leathers, but she must have borrowed the top from Faith; Angel was positive that she would never buy a leather top that revealing. She was wearing tight, red leather trousers; black, high-heeled leather boots; and a black leather top which Angel couldn't find a name for. It bared her midriff, and pushed her breasts up until they strained the leather. The straps went at an angle from the straight top to criss-cross over her back, which was bare, and then attached themselves back to the top at the opposite side to the one they started out from. Her hair was in loose, wavy, long golden curls, and she had somehow managed to get a smokey effect around her eyes without looking like she was stoned. Her mouth was red; her cheeks flushed; her skin was golden; and Angel instantly had to put his jacket over his lap at the way she moved. Faith was equally sexy, but didn't have the golden beauty Buffy did, nor her way of moving that was both suggestive and innocent. Angel had the irresistible urge to storm over the the multitude of males, vamp out, and roar to the world that Buffy was *his* and always would be. Not only in his heart, but on her neck too. The Master and Dracula had bitter her, sure, but he was the only one who had marked her as his own.  
  
Next to him, Spike wasn't fairing so well. He'd had to stand behind his chair to hide his reaction, and his eyes kept going yellow with a possessiveness Angel wanted to rip his throat out for. But he had left Buffy, not the other way around, he had no say in whom she moved on to.  
  
The girls seemed to be enjoying the attention, although neither allowed any to get too cocky, making sure they had a small gap between them and the drooling men. However, it was then that Faith used two muscular guy's shoulders to push herself above the crowd and spotted them. She immediately dropped into the throng again and moments later reappeared with Buffy clinging to her hand to stop them getting separated. It was only when they arrived and squabbled over the remaining chair (which eventually resulted in Buffy collapsing on top of Faith's lap) that Angel dragged his attention away and noticed with shock and no small amount of masculine jealousy that Gunn, Wes and even Xander were also eying the girls with lust.  
  
Buffy was more relaxed and care-free than she had been in years. Everything just felt so easy, and she felt so free to do whatever she wanted. She had responsibilities, yeah, but they weren't immediate ones, or constant. She could trust Dawn to take care of herself. She could leave California if she wished; the Hellmouth was no longer there. She had two gorgeous guys in love with her (she hopes, with a tinge of doubt) who she had to choose between, but not now. She had friends and family and Faith, who in all honesty was really her best friend. She was still excellent friends with Willow, but she didn't understand Willow's magick, and Willow didn't understand her Slayerliness. Smiling, she used one of her training moves to ripple up off Faith and the chair, and asked about drinks before fluttering her fingers in ciao and heading over to buy a cocktail.  
  
When she disappeared from view in the crowds, Angel's head immediately snapped round to Spike's challengingly. They glared at each other for several minutes before Spike let his face soften and muttered out the corner of his mouth, "Her choice."  
  
And it was. He knew that. He just didn't like that.  
  
  
***  
  
Cordelia had elbowed Xander laughingly as he watched Buffy and Faith dancing wide-eyed. Now he turned to her with such a contented, matured, but essentially Xander smile she couldn't help but laugh again and pull him to the dance floor. He'd learned how to dance without looking like a one- legged chicken in the past years as well; he was no Michael Jackson, but he could move to the music well enough. Cordelia realized that out of all of them, Xander had probably changed the least. He'd matured greatly, and he'd grown from 'the Anya experience' as she'd heard Dawn call it, and he'd become less idealistic with only one eye. By 'the Anya experience' she supposed that Dawn meant his love for her, and jilting her at the altar, and then finally losing her in the final battle. She leaned into him in a friendly way as the music slowed, and she could see him, too, evaluating her, noting the changes, and discovering the new and improved Cordy. She smiled again, and rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
  
***  
  
Back in the lounge area, Spike was arguing happily with Faith over who should get the last peanut from the bag Angel had bought for the table. She grinned, and reached for the tiny snack again as his vampiric reflexes awoke and shot out to slap her hand away. His other hand was holding his drink though, and so as his left battled Faith's right, her left slipped under to snatch it and pop it in her mouth. He snarled without any real passion, and couldn't stop the corners of his mouth quirking up. Buffy liked, if not loved him, he was accepted, he had something to do now that Buffy's touch made him corporeal, and there was no major upcoming evil. Life was good.  
  
He caught Faith's eye, trying to scout out her level of joy, when he saw her gazing at Buffy making her way across the room to them, and undoubtedly saw the very, very familiar look in her eyes.  
  
He couldn't help but exclaim with compassion, "You're in LOVE with her, you silly bint!"  
  



	5. Cat's Out of the Bag

For disclaimer, etc. see chapter 1  
  
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Major apologies are due. Skip actually turned out to be a bad guy, I'm really sorry for those who were confused. I hadn't actually watched S4 of Angel, just been spoiled for it, so I messed up. Really, really sorry.  
  
I'm very, very sorry at how long this took, but I've been away on holiday, so at least it gave me a chance to get the creative juices going. I am also still looking for a beta reader, as reading through my previous chapters I was disappointed at the amount of mistakes, and yet still can't be bothered to read through them again myself, which I hate. Idolsgirl (beams) had agreed to beta some of my stories, but she hasn't seen most of Angel yet and doesn't want to be spoiled so I'm still looking. Besides, you can never have too many beta readers.  
  
Also, if you don't like the pairings, get over it and stop reading this. There is no point in writing to me and saying, 'dat iz lik, soooooo gros. plz make dis b/a and show cool wes' because I'd keep on at whatever I was doing you didn't like just to bug you even if that wasn't my plot plan. I'm nice like that. :P  
  
*****  
Faith flushed with embarrassment, anger and horror as she quickly hissed at him, "Shhhhhhhhh! Don't tell anyone! She doesn't know. How did you know anywhere, you fucker?"  
  
She glanced wildly around, and slumped with disbelief and more horror as she saw Angel still as a statue, eyes burning- not accusing, but shocked, and somehow angry, maybe angry that there was yet another in the running for Buffy's love. She closed her eyes, but almost instantly opened them again when she felt Buffy's lithe form slide onto her lap again, offering Faith a sip of her cocktails as she sucked the cherry off her cocktail stick. She appeared unaware of the three wide-eyed stares as she did it. Over her head, Faith frantically mouthed at the two vampires, "Don't tell her!"  
  
Spike shrugged and Angel rejoined the conversation at the table, but she noticed them watching her occasionally throughout the rest of the evening.  
  
  
***  
  
Buffy recognized the tune filtering through her haze of contentment. She pondered it, and remembered it from the night- the night in the Bronze when she first properly kissed Spike, the start of their relationship. She'd denied the first one, but the second led to their later un-relationship. She sighed with regret, but then thought- this is the present. This isn't the past. I'm making a fresh start. Why not show it to him? She stood up, and took his unresisting, surprised hand, and led him to the dance floor. She laid her head on his shoulder, as his hesitant hand floated above the strands of hair flowing down her back and finally came to rest on it. The song spoke to them as they waltzed through the crowd.  
  
Goodbye to you-ou, Goodbye to everything that I knew...  
  
  
***  
  
Back at Wolfram and Hart, Willow and Fred were curled up on the sofa in the latter's apartment with a tub of Ben and Jerry's and some thick, creamy hot chocolate. They chattered rapidly about the events earlier, and Fred babbled enthusiastically about her lab while Willow listened avidly for a while before they got down to the 'nitty-gritty' as the southern girl's parents used to say.  
  
Fred dug her spoon into the ice-cream tub and held it poised above her mouth as she asked her question, her head tilted. "So, what's with that Faith girl? She seems really, kinda, I don't know. Loose?"  
  
Willow laughed around her mouthful. "Faith used to really go in for guys, and was just in it for the," she made a gesture with her elbow, her hand occupied with her mug, "you, know, the jiggy. But she dated this high- school principal for a while, and it was beginning to get serious, more than smoochies. And then she had this bust-up with him, and he left the next day, barely said goodbye. She said he was too uptight, and treated her like one of his students. Which is perverted in a way. So, Faith is on a man-hunt."  
  
Fred looked at her with large deer eyes, and shuddered a little. "Well, she doesn't sound like she'd take very good care of our guys. She'd better be nice, and keep her paws- and other things- off them," she proclaimed protectively.  
  
Willow laughed again. "Nope, I think she knows to stay well away from Scoobies, and the W&H manmeats as well."  
  
The brunette giggled. "Manmeat!" She grew shyer. "What about you. You said that you were, y'know, with someone." She flusteredly added, "Not that I'm prying, or anything. You don't have to tell me if it's private, or is it someone you came with?"  
  
Willow brushed a wisp of hair from her eyes. "Uh, the girl I was with, Kennedy, we broke up. We didn't really have anything in common- she was completely oblivious to how magic and science work. She was also a little on the young side. I'm OK with it. There are plenty more candies in the bag. Although, some flavours are better than others. And some are really rare."  
  
Fred smiled shyly, and ducked her head as she blustered about Knox, and how he'd been schemeing to bring back the evil version of Wolfram and Hart. She offered to show the redheaded witch her laboratory, and they ecstatically scurried down to it, talking a million miles an hour about things indecipherable to normal humans.  
  
  
***  
  
At the club, almost everybody had migrated to the dance floor. Buffy had disappeared to out back when the song finished, calling over her shoulder that she had seen a vampire leaving with an expensively dressed college student. Spike was leaning against the wall in the small courtyard at the side of the club to have a fag, and that left Cordelia and Angel guarding the various alcoholic drinks in a pregnant silence. Cordelia found it ironic when that phrase entered her head- a pregnant silence. She snickered without humour, and heaved a sigh before turning to Angel in her usual abrupt manner and telling him straight out, "Angel. I love you, but I'm not in love with you."  
  
A pause. Then Angel seemed to slump, and Cordelia winced at the thought of the pain he was probably in- until she heard him breathing with abundant relief. He gratefully replied, "That makes my part so much easier. It's the same with me. Love, but not in love. I guess I was just really lonely... I wanted someone so badly, and you were my oldest friend, and I love you so much, I convinced myself it was that kind of love."  
  
Cordelia nodded happily. "Me too! I know I had Groo, and I loved him, but it wasn't working, and it was so much easier to just let him go and tell myself it was you I wanted than break up with him." She lowered her eyes. "In Pylea... he told me what his life had been like. Ever since he was born, he was persecuted because he looked too human. I was the first ever to show him kindness, and I guess I felt guilty about bringing more sorrow to his life."  
  
They entered a companionable silence, and when the music slowed yet again, Cordelia suddenly reached out, grabbing Angel's arm and yanking him from his seat into a hug before leading him to the dance floor. Cordelia grinned at his bemused expression.  
  
  
***  
  
The next morning, everybody was in their own room, sleeping soundly, for the most part. The hotel was deserted and almost silent, only the hum of the air conditioning and the infrequent flick as the night receptionist sleepily turned a page in his magazine disturbing the peace. At Wolfram and Hart, the LA crew were slumbering in a far less empty building. It wasn't unusual in the slightest for employees to stay late, especially considering the sort of business they dealed in. However, noise was kept to a minimum, and the demon hunters slept on undisturbed.  
  
So everybody was in their own room, sleeping soundly- for the most part.  
  
In Room 113 two young women were sharing a double bed and a nightmare. Many girls all over the world shared it. But not all. Between these two girls, they had managed to kick both the heavy duvet and the two sheets lying under and over them off the bed, and they were both writhing in a grotesque mimic of their earlier dancing. Eyeballs rolled and darted beneath twitching, flickering eyelids. Inside the dream, it didn't seem a nightmare at first. It was just people going about their everyday business. A bookie organising his accounts. A shop assistant artificially smiling at an overweight, elderly lady trying on lingerie. A retired banker driving to the golfing range. But throughout it all, was the persistent sense of wrongness. It took a while for them to figure it out.  
  
Everybody was the same. All of the retirees; they all played golf. All the overweight ladies went shopping. All the bookies did accounts in the same way. Nobody was unique. Nobody made their own choices.  
  
Free will had become non-existent.  
  



	6. Banter and a Blurt

For disclaimer, rating, etc. see Chapter 1

Author's Notes: Please, review and tell me what you think of how I did the characters! Do they seem- well, in character?

The next day, the group all woke at different times, dashing into Angel's office to snatch a doughnut from the basket, and then going about their business- some going to the airy lounge/kitchenette Wolfram and Hart had left at their disposal, some going shopping (cough Cordelia cough All those fashions she missed... nooooooo!) and as for Buffy, she was surfing the 'net for boarding schools. She was still determined that Dawn should get the decent education she'd missed, what with Slayage and apocalypses (apocalypsi?). Faith, however, had slept in until nearly eleven o'clock and was poking half-heartedly through the plain sugared doughnuts that were all that was left. Angel had been at a meeting the entire morning, and as he returned, caught her in the act of wrapping an extra doughnut in a napkin and slipping it in her pocket. She froze guiltily, and Angel couldn't help grinning at her expression. He sat down at his desk as Spike sauntered in, head down with uncharacteristic grumpiness. "Bloody uncivil hour this is," he complained. "Your people were using the room next door to practice magic dynamite, it sounded like. Look at the frickin' time!"

Faith let herself fall sideways across a low armchair, her legs dangling over the armrest. "Life's a bitch, and then you die, and unlife's a bastard," she commented with a smirk.

The platinum-haired vampires draped himself over the couch opposite her, and regarded her seriously. "Yeah, well, you don't know what hell on Earth is until Buffy finds out you're in love with her. Wait 'til the shit hits the fan. Then you'll see. "

He paused, and Faith could see the thoughts traveling through his head behind his eyes, before a certain excited gleam came into them. "You're sharing a frickin' bed with her. How do you resist? Seein' her strip off into those sexy lil' undies she wearing, seein' her after she takes a shower, and comes back glowy and damp, and you just wanna pull her to you and kiss her 'till she passes out- either that, or bend her over the bed..."

He drifted off, his mind in the gutter, but a look in his eyes close to worship. Faith snorted. "It's hard as hell, yeah, but it'd be so much worse if she found out. Which she never will," she added, her hand dropping to the stake tucked in her waistband in a way which reminded Spike this wasn't one of the untrained Slayers, but a street-wise, experienced one.

"Well, as much as I like this little daydreaming fest, I don't think Buffy would appreciate you undressing her in your mind. And I don't appreciate you doing it in my office, either." Angel spoke up, and not a moment too soon.

Buffy walked in, her eyes zoning in on the doughnuts. She dashed across the room to them, and hungrily took a massive bite out of the one remaining custard, bewilderedly brushing off the dirty look Faith shot her when she realized she'd missed it. It was only when Spike remarked, "Interestin' use for Slayer speed, luv," that Buffy looked up from her breakfast.

She scowled at him. "School-searching is a lot harder than it lots, but I have a bunch that look good. I printed off the prospectuses so that Dawnie can pick one out later. I think I deserve a doughnut."

She plopped down on the corner of the couch, suddenly highly aware of Spike next to her. All she'd have to do was reach out, and there he was... All lean muscle and platinum-blonde hair. And he was coming closer... it looked like he was going to kiss her, and she was so wrapped up in staring into his eyes that she jerked when he poked her ribs suspiciously. "You skipped brekky again, di'n't you?"

She flushed, and the other occupants in the room hungrily devoured the prettiness of the pink in her cheeks with their gazes.

Spike scowled at her. "You're wasting away, you... you... GIRL!"

"Oh, no, Angel, Faith, tell him off! He called me a... a... GIRL!" she mocked, faking sobs.

Spike scowled some more, but a bit of humour crept into the lines of his mouth. "Yeah, well, I don't like to see my girl as thin as a rake."

The group fell, once again, silent, with the implication in Spike's words. Finally, Angel couldn't bear it any longer, and exclaimed tensely, "Buffy, make up your mind!"

Faith, playing the middler, as much as she would rather have been one of the contesters for Buffy's love, send Angel a reproachful look and said with newfound Faithy gentleness and unFaithy compassion and tact, "Buffy, speak your mind. They love you, and will love you no matter who _you_ love."

Buffy blushed, and tugged her hair embarrassedly until eventually she just blurted out. "Both."


End file.
